


Work Wife

by heisnameless



Category: The Report (2019)
Genre: Angst, Brief Misogyny in the Workplace, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of Not Eating Properly, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Tension, Teasing, mentions of human trafficking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25987417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heisnameless/pseuds/heisnameless
Summary: Reader works in the office with Dan and the more he stays over, the more they stay with him to make sure he’s taken care of.
Relationships: Dan Jones/Reader, Dan Jones/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

He worked later than most, surviving primarily off caffeine. You weren’t sure when he ate, or if he even did, so every so often, you’d bring him little things to snack on just to make sure he had something. His hands were shaking as he shuffled through paperwork, trying to find what he so desperately needed while you just stood watch. You didn’t have clearance for what he was working on so you didn’t dare push or ask for any information, you just worked in the office at the same time as he did. At least, sometimes you did.

Tonight wasn’t one of those nights. It was after hours. Your shift had ended three hours ago but you stayed just to make sure to bring him something to dinner since your own desk wasn’t piled. The food you brought is still sitting in its containers and you’re in the far back of the room, feet up on a desk as you watch him. “You need to eat.”

“I need to find this.” He responds almost immediately. He’s hardly noticed the food sitting in front of him as he sighs, not sparing you a glance even as you lower your legs from the table, stand and approach him slowly. Your badge clinks against your chest and you frown, arms folding across your chest.

“You have all night, Dan.” You push a second time, knowing his foods cold and the drinks hot. This time, he lifts his head, catches your eye as his lips press together and his brows pinch slightly. He too frowns for a moment when he notices there’s two trays of food sitting on the table.

“You were waiting for me?” He’s flabbergasted, mouth open as he looks from the food to you and you give a slight nod of annoyance. Your stomach was slowly beginning to hurt from the lack of food. He pushes the files to the side, pulls chairs close to the table for the both of you. “I.. I’m sorry, Y/N. I hadn’t noticed.”

You remain standing even as he sits, arms across your chest as you continue to stare at him. He begins to open the Styrofoam box in front of him. “You don’t seem to notice a lot lately.”

He sits back in the chair then, hands sitting on the table in front of him as he raises his brows, staring up at you. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

You bite your inner cheek, thinking for sure that you’ve overstepped some invisible line between the two of you. You’ve just been someone that’ve been making sure he stays healthy for the last month and a half, right? You don’t speak as he pushes back from the table and fully turns towards you in his chair before he rises, walks to you.

“Y/N, you’re my friend, if I’ve done something wrong, talk to me. I.. I didn’t mean to..” He trails off and you take the opportunity to burst, mind spiraling as you give a dry laugh at his opening comment.

“ _ **We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.**_ I’ve spent almost every night with you. I could be home, home watching some fucking.. I don’t know what! But I’m here and I know, I _know_ you don’t have your nose so far in this fucking report that you don’t see me. That you don’t see th–” Your stopped as he kisses you, places his hands on your waist and pulls you against him. Your hand flattens against his chest, fingers closing around the fabric of his shirt to keep him right there.

Then, his forehead is resting against yours. Both of your eyes are closed and its dead silent. You speak up first when you decide he’s not going to say anything. “I’m sor–”

“No.” Is all he says before he kisses you a second time, silencing you once more. This time, the kiss is sweeter, it isn’t as abrupt or awkward. When you pull back from this one, you release his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkle you’ve created with your palm.

“You need to eat.” You remind him as you clear your throat. He’s watching you, eyes slightly dazed with wonder but he still nods, fingers flexing on your waist before he releases you. As he withdraws and moves back to his seat, you can’t help but watch him with curious eyes as your head tilts and your breath catches in your throat. Your lips tingle and you swear you can still feel the weight of his palms on your hips from where he’d just held you against him.

You’re finally sitting down then, placing yourself into the seat he’d moved over beside him before you’d yelled at him. _Before he’d kissed you_ , you thought. But still, all you can think about is, what the hell is this supposed to mean _now_?


	2. Miscommunication

You don’t see him for a few days after that, but you swear you hear his voice a few times in the hallway when you’re on the way to your meetings. Sometimes you drop by his office and find the door closed with the lights off so you don’t even bother knocking. It’s all so much that it just has you constantly gnawing at your bottom lip when you’re trying to desperately just to focus on the work at hand. 

This time, you’re in the middle of a meeting when you get caught in the middle of your thoughts, pen between your teeth as you stare ahead at the board. Security measures in case of an emergency of some sort are being presented, at least that’s what you think it is. You’ve been over those instructions thousands of times in your head, you had the training before you got here. Sometimes you even thought about these procedures at night when you were just trying to sleep. You worked in the office of what was supposed to be the most secure place in the United States of America, but yet, why were you still so afraid? All you did was file paperwork.

“Y/N,” your boss begins as he snaps his fingers, clearly annoyed by the way you dismiss him so easily, “do I need to send you home? You’ve been staring out that window for the last twenty minutes. It’s all you seem to do when we have these briefings. If you can’t focus, how will you ever make it as a woman in the office?”

“No, sir.” You begin to shake your head, placing your pen on the table in front of you as you adjust your skirt. You look down the long table at him, catching his stern, glaring eyes as you harden your own gaze and breath in. “Actually, may I be dismissed?”

The look he gives you is no longer annoyance but instead anger at the fact you have chosen to ignore his sardonic offer to leave this overly boring meeting. He has to quickly repress his emotions as he adjusts the front of his suit jacket as he nods. “Yes, of course.”

You waste no time to gather up your things, only a pen and a random piece of paper you’d hardly taken notes on. You spare no on else a glance before you leave, the only sound being your heels and your breathing as you walk through the hallway and make your way out through your cubicle. If you make it there before anyone from the briefing catches you, you think you can just pack up your things and go home. You can go home and run yourself a bath, that sounds nice. You can’t wait to get these heels off especially. 

And then, you see him. Dan’s at the end of the hall with a briefcase in one hand and his phone in the other. That’s all it takes for everything to just go downhill. You’re frozen still, far enough from the doors of the meeting room that they can’t see you anymore, but you realize you have to walk by Dan to make it to the elevators. Mentally, you curse yourself because now, it’s you that’s avoiding him. That is, of course, if he was ever truly avoiding you.

“Okay, you’ll just, go, he won’t even..” You whisper, trailing off as he walks towards you, head lifting at the exact time as you drop yours and you speed passed him. You think you’ve made it by him just in time but then you feel a hand on your arm, a hand that could only belong to him, pulling you into an empty alcove of the hallway. 

“Are you avoiding me?” You don’t know if his voice is so loud because of the way your heart is pounding in your ears or if he’s truly speaking so loudly, but when you lift your head to look at him, his face is soft despite his hurt eyes. 

“Am I––? _What_? No, why would I?” This time, being so close to him, you notice just how dark the circles under his eyes have gotten, so you ask. “Have you slept?”

Slowly, he gives a small, half-smile as he removes his hand from your arm, and for a brief moment, you miss his touch. The weight and warmth he gave your cool skin. “Probably not as much as I should have. Are you just coming in or just leaving?”

It’s almost as if the two of you hadn’t just kissed only a few days ago. Being so close to him again, it has the promise of leaving early thrown from your mind and replaced with **him**. “Leaving _early_ , but do you need anything?”

He frowns slightly then, lips parting a moment later as he sighs and shakes his head. “Ah, no. Go home, Y/N. You need to take care of yourself once in a while too. You’ve done more than enough for me.” 

Carefully, you nod and twirl your pen between your fingers before shifting on your feet, annoyed by the way your heels are digging into the back of your feet. After folding the piece of paper in half that you still have leftover from your meeting, you quickly use it to scribble down your name and number, holding it out for him. “Here, just in case you ever need anything and I’m not here.”

Dan takes the piece of paper, folding it a second time and pocketing it in the inside of his jacket before he nods, repeating. “Go home for now. I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.” You begin to shake your head as he adjusts his jacket a second time. “I have to stop by my desk to grab my things anyway, I don’t want to keep you from work. It’s almost that time anyways.”

Despite your arguments, he doesn’t budge. “I’ll walk you out, I still have fifteen minutes, give or take a few.”


	3. Isn't He?

Dan is standing in the parking lot, looking down at you with furrowed brows, having not given you a chance to explain the situation. The two of you had just stepped into the garage when you told him you didn’t have a car for him to walk you to. “Are you telling me you walked here?”

The mild concern in his voice makes your cheeks turn pink, stifling a laugh before you shake your head. “I carpooled, sometimes I do walk though. There’s a difference, I’m fine to wait for the bus now.”

“Oh, like hell you are. The next one isn’t for another half-hour, if that.” He gave a slight huff, brows now raising as he looked out over the balcony, noting the darkening sky as night came over. You stand there for a moment, piecing together his words before you shake your head. 

“Dan, you have a job to do. You can’t be driving me around the city.” You reach out to rest your hand on his upper arm, watching as his eyes soften. He’s got this faint pout forming, you don’t think he’s even aware of it. He’s just so. . sweet. It makes your chest pang with guilt for simply telling him no. You wonder how anybody, anywhere, could have ever told him no. Then, with a false exasperated sigh, you cave. “Fine.”

Within a second, he has the clicker for his car in his hand, pressing the button before a few rows away, the wall is illuminated. When you look back up to him, he’s holding a hand out for you, his large hand surely going to swallow yours whole.

And it does. You shiver at the touch, enjoying the way his palm feels. It’s warm, surprisingly smooth save for the few calluses from the time he spends behind a desk or on the phone. Dan’s smiling as he leads you through the parking garage, making sure you’re on the inside, walking alongside the parked cars just in case someone comes barreling through. They’re known for doing so. 

You lose his hand when he goes to open the car door for you and briefly, you miss the warmth. Miss having him close with nothing but him. As you look from the car to him, you smile graciously. “Thank you for this, though I really wish you’d let me just––”

He cuts you off with a look. Dan looks _amused_ in the dim lighting, eyes twinkling as he waits for you to continue, smiling slightly as he leans into the car door. The look itself makes heat stir in your body. In your cheeks, in your stomach. Everywhere. When he speaks, his voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, though you’re not entirely sure it’s humanly possible. “Are you done?”

You know he’s teasing you, watching the way your cheeks deepen in their red tone from the simplest of questions. Your mind is jumbled, lips moving, but there’s nothing coming out. And _oh_ , he’s watching those too, isn’t he? You have to swallow hard to even gather your thoughts, nodding firmly. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

You wait for him to push away from the door, to become impatient with you, but he doesn’t. He stands there, waiting, wanting to make sure you’re put back together and entirely coherent despite his incessant teasing. He really is something, _isn’t he_? Stepping forward, you place your belongings, only a bag or two, into the floorboard of the front seat before standing again to look at him.

The way he’s watching you, you can tell he’s waiting. He looks so patient yet so very feral in the same moment. Your thighs shift together perfectly as you step closer to him, wanting to reach out and touch him, wanting to feel the weight of his hand in yours again, or maybe even on other parts of your skin. You craved his touch, you realized with a soft gasp and his pupils dilate at the noise, nostrils flaring. Then, does he look away from you, speaking in such a rough voice. “Get in the car.”

You do as you’re told without any complaints, climbing in and turning your gaze away from him, knowing if you glimpsed the way he looked at you, you might just fall to your knees before him. You wouldn’t exactly complain though and you hope he wouldn’t either. The door is closed a moment later and you watch as he hurries around the car, hands settling on the steering wheel as if to keep from touching you. 

“Daniel.” His name rolls off your tongue before you can help yourself. His full name, so delicately placed on the tip of your tongue. Dan’s head turns, fingers flexing on the wheel of the car as you lean your head back into the headrest. Despite the neediness of your voice, your eyes are gentle, collected as you look him over. 

Before you can speak again, he’s on you, lips pressed against yours as your back arches from the passenger seat. His lips are equally as soft as his hands and he tastes sweet. Of course, he does. You think you whine into his mouth when you taste him, but you’re so lost, so caught up in him that you can’t think properly. His thumb brushes the curvature of your jaw, taking in each piece of delicate skin he can reach despite the center console wedged between the two of you. It’s digging into your side as you lean forward for him, reaching to thread your fingers into his hair. 

Then, he pulls away from you, his forehead resting against yours as he pants. For a brief moment, you forget how to breathe, and then, you gasp for the oxygen you desperately need. 


	4. Another Late Night

“Here.” You whisper as you lean forward, pointing to a building on your right. You gather up your bags into your lap, prepared to get out and walk the sidewalk when Dan pulls into the parking lot of your building. Not what you had been expecting. “One of these times, you’re going to have to let me walk.”

His hand was on your thigh as he laughs. The weight of his palm makes you shiver but the sound of his laugh was nothing but a gentle caress. “Yeah, not happening. I’ll walk you up.”

As he parks the car, you turn your body to look him over. He looked minimally disheveled from where you’d brushed your fingers through his hair. Your cheeks heated at the thought of how only a few minutes ago you’d almost begged for this man to kiss you, to touch you. You force your eyes from him, turning to the illuminated dashboard to check the time with a gasp. “Daniel! You’re late already. You were supposed to be in over five minutes ago.”

There’s a brief pause as his jaw clenches, eyes shifting because _fuck_ , he was late. Late on his own terms, that is. Then, it strikes him what had happened the last time he’d put work above you unintentionally. You’d yelled and professed your feelings for this beautiful man. “My personal clock-in time is an hour before I’m supposed to be there.”

Your brows furrow in confusion as he taps a finger against the inside of your knee. Then, as you lean back a bit, hands loosening on your bags, you shift, thighs pressing together as your knees turn towards him. “Is that a fancy way of saying you were going in early?”

His hand drifts from your thigh to rest on the seat, fingertips just barely brushing the fabric of your skirt. You stop yourself from lifting his hand back onto your thigh, aching for the warmth of his palm. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“You go in early, you stay late.” You began to muse, letting your hand slide down to rest on top of his on your seat. “How late will you stay tonight?”

His fingers twitch at the first brush of yours against his before he upturns his palm, a silent offering that you take. Your fingers slip between each of his loosely as he teases. “Thinking about waiting up for me?”

“Something like that.” You smile as sweetly as you can, his thumb brushing up against yours before you continue. “Just because I’m off early doesn’t mean I’m not going to make sure you eat tonight.”

He sighs, eyes softening. “You’re off, stay in tonight, (Y/N).”

Your lips part, ready for protest when he shakes his head, instead nodding his head towards your building. “Now, let me walk you up. I want to make sure you get there in one piece.”

“As if I wouldn’t.” You begin to withdraw you fingers from his when his hand tightens around yours. 

His face hardens slightly, jaw set despite the gentle look of his eyes. Briefly, there’s a glimmer of fear and when he speaks, his voice is quiet. “Trafficking is a very real thing.”

“Dan,” you start as you reach out to brush his cheek, willing his features to soften and for all that troubled him to dissipate, “I always have pepper spray if I need it. A taser for the late nights. I know it’s not exactly safe, the world’s a scary place.”

“Terrifying.” He whispers curtly though his cheek leans into the touch of your fingertips. You think there’s a hint of anger in his eyes for a moment, but you know it’s not at you. Not with the way that he’s laying his head into your palm. Then, he turns his head, kisses the crease of your hand and withdraws his hand from yours. Dan reaches to turn off the car before looking to you, eyes playful this time. “Lets go before you really do make me late.”

  


As it turns out, you don’t listen very well because a few hours later, you were turning up at the office with food in hand. It was after midnight when you got there and you were glad you didn’t work the following day. You were feeling adventurous, so you cooked that evening and having decided it didn’t taste terrible, you decided to share. Dan needed to eat anyways. You didn’t bother with stopping by the break room the two of you often met in. Instead, you went directly for his office, hoping that for once you would catch him in there. 

Dan’s office light isn’t on, which isn’t surprising, you’re not sure when it ever is. Turning the knob though, you find it unlocked so you enter, thinking to just leave the plate of pasta on his desk with a note before you leave. Upon entering, you find that the room is illuminated by the screen of his computer and at one of the two desks, with his back towards you, is Dan. 

Light pours in from the hallway but it doesn’t seem to be enough to disturb him just yet, so he doesn’t turn. He doesn’t look to you to figure out who was here so late or what the new smell filling his office was. “Don’t you know that reading in the dark on a backlit screen can strain your eyes, Mr. Jones?”

That gets his attention. His body shifts, straightening as he swivels in his chair to face you, taking in the sight of you, a silhouette in his doorway. You take only a moment to recount that you had indeed shown up to the office in jeans and an old sweater from your college days, if not older. It should have been retired the day you graduated. “Didn’t I tell you not to worry about feeding me, (Y/N)? Turn the light on and come in.”

You’re pleased that he doesn’t turn you away, so you’re quick to do as you’re told this time. Once the light is on, you close the office door behind you before walking forward to place his plate of food onto his desk. “Oh, do you have a dairy allergy? There’s cheese and–”

His legs slide into the space between desk drawers, though you’re not entirely sure how he fits. He begins pulling away the plastic wrap from the plate, laughing as he cuts you off. “I eat _any_ and everything, I assure you. Did you make this?”

“Oh, I– yes, I did. It’s just chicken Alfredo. I didn’t want to order anything so I thought it would be better to cook for once, and then, I thought you needed to eat too.” You speak as you sit down in the chair placed across from him. 

“Thank you. I thank you every time you bring food, but I’m not sure that’s enough.” He frowns slightly at his own proclamation. hands placed on the desk on either side of his food. Dan turns away from you long enough to reach for a bottle of water placed beside his computer. 

“It’s okay, it really is. I don’t mind doing it, it’s kind of normal for me now.” You give a dismissive wave of your hand, not wanting him to worry before you expel a short yawn, stifling it with your palm. His fingers pause from unwrapping the plastic fork and knife you brought for him, the set left over from takeout. 

“Let me take you to lunch one day, or dinner.” It’s meant to come out as an offer but it sounds almost like a command. Even if it were, you couldn’t say no. His face is neutral, brows raised in question.

There’s a beat as you think it over before you nod. “Yes.”

He gives a hint of a smile at the confirmation, grasping his fork in his hand before spearing a piece of chicken to bite into, speaking beforehand. “Now, how are you getting home? It’s after midnight, buses stopped running, sweetheart.”

You mouth falls open just slightly because truly, you hadn’t thought this far into your plan. Another yawn is pulled from you and his smile widens before he speaks again. “Stay, I’ll take you home again. There’s a file I need to go down and pull, shouldn’t take too long.” 


End file.
